Kirkwall High
by Clarity Rose
Summary: Hawke and Siblings have transferred to yet another new school. Hilarity and Antics abound as they find a place for themselves within "The Hanged Man", the school newspaper and its subsequent Clique.      I blame BSN.
1. Chapter 1

Dragon Age 2, Dragon Age Origins, and Dragon Age Origins Awakening all belong to Bioware. They're my new favoritist muse ever, and I can't help but write! Blame anything creative on the BSN forums and the Anders and Fenris Fan-Threads, Facebook-groups, and other fun etc's. Like this one, where they managed to get Kirkwall High stuck in my head with a single typo. "Assasins Creek".. turned into Dawson's creek in my head, and then "Kirkwall Creek".. do you see what these people do to me?

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><p><strong>Kirkwall High<strong>

Carver slamed the car door shut, his usual broody scowl plastered on his square jaw and hooded blue eyes. He sighed and ran a shaky hand through his dark hair. "Another new school. Did you _really_ have to set the gym on _fire_?"

Angelica Hawke laughed at her younger brother. Obviously it had been an accident, but you couldn't tell _him_ that. She gave her brother the once-over, committing his form to memory with her golden brown eyes. He'd gotten tall, finally growing into his feet and hands, during their stay at Lothering Prep. She sighed, the signs of training from his stint on the Junor varsity football team clearly showing in the bulky muscles he'd packed on. It had always irritated Carver that he couldn't draw more attention to himself.

"Well it wasn't as if it was on _purpose_, Carver Malcome Hawke. Its not easy trying to hide magic in gym class when you're being berated for being to weak to properly swing a _wallop mallet"_ Her sister, Carver's twin, Bethany responded. Bethany was built like Angelica. She was petite, dark haired, and brown eyed. It was very clear that she and Carver were twins though.

".. but did you really have to set the thing on FIRE when you threw it across the gym?"

The sound of the twins bickering faded from Hawke's attention as she scanned the front of the building. The white carved stone building seemed to jut at angry angles out of the ground and other buildings nearby. It didn't look terribly different then the other ancient Tevinter style buildings in Kirkwall.

Hawke took a deep breath. She always hated new schools. They'd been to 5 different highschools, 12 different middle schools, and no less then _Twenty Four_ elementary schools, thanks to Father, herself, and Bethany's magic.

Father had kept them moving. They told the schools, the districts, that Father was a traveling salesman who couldn't bare to leave his family behind. The truth of the matter was, Malcome Hawke had been trying to keep his daughters out of The Circle.

She sighed again, turning to gather her-still-arguing twin siblings, when someone ran by, bumping against her shoulder. She felt her backpack slide off of her back, and she screamed, "HEY!" It did little good, the red-haired thief was streaking his way across the courtyard towards the building.

Fortunately, or maybe unfortunately for the thief, he didn't get very far. A _crossbow bolt_ came launching out of _literally_ no-wheres, pinning the thief against a wall. Hawke watched, wide eyed, as a Dwarf appeared from the crowd, slinging a very fancy crossbow over his shoulder.

"I once knew a guy who could charm the coin from your pocket with a smile. But you? You don't have the skill to work Hightown, let alone Kirkwall High." and with that, the dwarf slugged the red-haired thief directly in the chin.

With a single toss, her bag was back in her hands, and she was staring wide-eyed at the Dwarf, who had an extraordinary amount of chest hair, and a layer of stubble on his chin. "Varric Tethras, Archer, and Journalist, at your service."

The twins had ceased their argument, having moved behind their older sister. "A dwarf, here?" Bethany asked, curiously, her dark hair falling over one eye.

"Kirkwall is an equal opportunity city. Elves, dwarves.. there's even a Templar school, and a Circle across the lake. Its all housed in the old prison."

"And you're just _allowed_ to bring weapons to school?" Carver asked, indicating the crossbow slung over the dwarf's shoulder.

"Bianca? I never leave home with out her. I'm captain of the archery team here." He explained, as if a dwarf with a crossbow at a highschool was perfectly normal practices for Kirkwall.

A voice behind her caught Hawke's attention. "Alright, you three. I'll be back at 2:15 to pick you up. I'm off to the barracks." Aveline, the perpetual guardian. She wasn't much older, only a couple of years out of school herself. The red-haired guardswoman glanced towards Varric with a veiled threat in her green eyes. "Stay out of trouble, please?" _That_ warning, was for Hawke.

She laughed, "I'll do my very best to be a good girl, just for you, Aveline."

"That's what I'm worried about. Carver, please _please_, try not to get into a fight on your first day. Your mother asked me to keep an eye on you three, and the last thing I need on my first day on the job is to have to come down here and arrest you for punching someone in the face. _Again_."

Carver sighed, rolling his eyes. "Alright Aveline." Beth giggled, poking her brother, who was now glowering indignantly.

"And that goes for you too, miss Bethany. No more "interesting" uses for wallop mallets, okay?"

"Yes, Aveline. I'll be good."

"Good. don't forget, 2:15."

"Alright Aveline, we'll see you later." Hawke smiled, waving a hand as the red-and-white guard-car drove away.

"So you're related to a guard?" Hawke had almost forgotten Varric for a moment. She turned and looked down, a wide grin on her face.

"No, Aveline is a family friend. She came with us from Lothering after... after the blight came and we were forced to evacuate." It wasn't _exactly_ a lie. The blight had come to Lothering, but not before the three of them and been unceremoniously kicked out for burning down the gym _and_ library, though the library had been even more an accident then the gym had been.

"She's like a big sister, well.. older then Ang, anyway." Beth piped in from behind her.

"Yes, and almost more _irritating_. Almost." Carver finshed.

Hawke grumbled, resisting the urge to hit her brother. "I'm sorry, we didn't introduce ourselves. I'm Angelica Hawke, though most people just call me Hawke. Behind me is my twins, Bethany.."

"Beth!"

"... and Carver."

"Oh so we're _your_ twins now?"

"Who is making it a certainty that he won't live through the day."

Varric laughed, taking the hand the young woman had extended to him. "It's nice to meet you, Hawke, Sunshine, Little Hawke" He nodded in the direction of each of her siblings, to which Carver sighed heavily at being called 'little hawke'. The whole thing made Hawke laugh, but she did her best to keep it locked in her chest lest her brother cause a scene.

"Welcome to Kirkwall High. I know everything there is to know about everything here. Follow me and I'll introduce you to a few of my friends."

Utterly bemused at the situation, she followed behind Varric, her brother and sister following. Behind her, the twins were telegraphing back and forth with hand gestures and their secret-twin language that had continuiously driven her batty in their younger years.

The foursome walked through the crowded, noisy hallways, through one doorway, then another, and still another. They twisted left, then right, past classrooms filled with noisy teenagers. After what seemed like _utterly ages_, they stopped, and Varric gestured towards a door labeled, "The Hanged Man".

" The Hanged Man? That some kind of joke?" Carver grumbled.

"Nope, this is the journalism room. The Hanged Man is the school's newspaper. Professes Anders lets us hang out here most of the day, provided we actually show up to class once and a while." Varric smirked, pushing open the door.

"Varric! It's about time you came back. They're bickering again." A petite elf girl, her face marked by tattoos indicating her Dalish herritige, squeaked at Varric.

"Isabela's helping, I take it, daisy?"

"No, she's been egging them on. Helping? Why would you say that?" The green eyed elf peered at Varric as if the sarcasm had completely missed her.

Varric sighed, patting the elf on the hand. "Thanks, Daisy. I'll handle it." Varric turned towards the Hawk-trio and smiled warily. "This is Merrill. She transferred here from Sundermount Dailish Academy a few months ago. She's not _quite_ gotten the hang of human life."

Hawke shook the hand of the girl named Merrill, "Its nice to meet you Merrill. We're new here as well. I'm Hawke, and these two are Bethany and Carver."

"Beth! and Hello! It's so nice to meet you!"

"Yes, uhm, hello." Hawke couldn't help but grin when her brothers voice cracked. Carver never was very good around pretty girls. It was just then, that she heard the yelling.

"... should ship you right back to Tevinter with that attitude!"

"Oh, and what you are isn't completely taboo? I should turn you in!"

"Will you two stop it? What do I have to do, get naked?"

"No."

"Maker, no!"

Seductive laughter came after that. Whomever had suggested she get naked seemed to be enjoying the uncomfortable silence that came after those no's.

Varric chuckled, closing the door behind them before pushing open another. There, standing behind a desk, was a tall blond man, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. A voluptuous young woman with exuberant amounts of mocha flesh exposed, was sitting cross-legged on that same desk. On the other side, a lanky teen-aged male, with white hair, pointed ears, and strange bluish tattoos was standing. His head was bowed, and from the look on his face he was trying to set the desk on fire.

"Are you three finished bickering so I can introduce you to our newest recruits?" Varric said, setting his crossbow, Bianca, in a black case. It looked to have been waiting there_ just_ for that crossbow.

"What? Yes, I'm sorry." The man was saying, looking up at Hawke and her siblings. Surprise crashed through Hawke as she looked at this man. Maker, He was _gorgeous_. He had strawberry blond hair tied in a half ponytail, deep brown eyes filled with sadness, the scruff of an unshaven face, his clothing looking slightly rumpled and disheveled.. _perhaps he'd slept in this room the night before..._

"Anders.. Professor Anders, actually, but I dislike titles." He was saying. He smiled and Hawke felt her heart melt into a puddle somewhere around her toes. What the hell was wrong with her? He was a _teacher_. He couldn't have been much older then she, maybe in his mid twenties.

"Isabela" a second voice purred, and Hawke tore her gaze away from the handsome professor. This voice came from the overly curvy girl sitting on the professors desk. Thigh-high leather boots covered most of the girls legs, but the mini-skirt left little in the way of covering the rest. She hopped down and _sauntered_, maker she wished _she _knew how to walk like that, over towards the three of them.

Isabela held out a single hand. Hawke shook it, but did little else. Carver was shifting his weight from one foot to another, fidgeting. If he'd been uncomfortable around Merrill, Hawke was 100% positive her little brother was going to explode in the presence of this Isabela girl.

"And the broody elf over there, is.." Varric piped in, just at the nick of time...

"Fenris." a surprisingly deep voice responded, sending little shivers down Hawke's spine. Her eyes fell on the elf who had moved to sit in one of the desks in the back of the room. Were all the people at this school _ridiculously_ good looking? Hooded emerald eyes peered up at her, a smirk tugging at the corners of sensual lips. A shock of white hair fell over one of his eyes. The way he nonchalantly slouched, paired with the odd tattoos, instantly gave him that oh so tempting _bad boy_ look.

She couldn't stop the words from falling out of her mouth, or the playful, snarky tone that came with them, "So is everyone in this school _ridiculously_ good-looking, or just you lot?"

Isabela laughed, as if in agreement with the assessment. "We could say the same thing about you." Anders, _Professor_ Anders, responded, smiling at her. She felt herself laughing. Behind her, Beth was giggling, and Carver managed to look _more_ broody. She also pointedly noticed how very quickly those brown eyes slid down to the desk in front of him, or the color that flushed in those cheeks.

_So the comment hadn't been meant to be said out loud, then. _She made a mad dash to recover from the ever-growing awkward moment. "Well I wouldn't know about all _that._ I'm Angelica Hawke.. Hawke for short. This, is my sister Bethany, and my brother Carver." she motioned to the twins behind her.

"I can introduce _myself_, sister." Carver said bitterly from behind her, glaring daggers into the back of his sisters head.

"Well then?"

"What? You've gone and ruined the moment, now"

Hawke sighed.

Anders, _Professor_ Anders was clearing her throat, "Well, if Varric thinks you're worth the time, you're welcome to spend it in here with us. He doesn't just bring anyone here, and I trust his judgment. I take it you're registered and settled in?"

"Not yet, we only just arrived when Varric here saved us from a would-be backpack thief."

Anders was nodding. He picked a pair of delicate looking glasses off the desk and slipped them on. They did little to take away from the overwhelming _handsome_ of the scruffy man. "Merrill could you go tot he office and pick up the Hawke families class schedules for me? Tell Principle Elthena that they'll be joining us here in The Hanged Man, if you would."

"Alright Anders.." and with that, the little painted elf skipped out the door, mindful to latch it behind her as she went.

"Maker, what have we gotten ourselves into.." Carver grumbled, and headed towards the back of the room to take a seat.


	2. Chapter 2

Bioware is our overlord who lovingly gave us a wonderful universe to pervert and abuse. Everything named belongs to them, except Angelica. Kind of. Also, blame BSN and the Anders thread for this particular abomination. Also Berelinde, because she encouraged me to continue this. And she's the best proof-reader ever. Go read her stories. They're awesome. Do it, the end. *heart*

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><p>Have you ever heard the saying, "Nothing Easy is Ever Simple"? No? Well it pretty much summed up Angelica Hawke's life. Whenever there was something in her life that seemed to be a get in, get it done, and get out moment, they always ended up being a thousand times more complicated than when they first present themselves. Need to use the bathroom? Three hour line at the ladies' room door. Drop a glass on the floor and it breaks? The vacuum is broken, and the broom's missing... and you step on a huge piece of glass and need to go get stitches.<p>

This was the kind of life a Hawke lead. Her father had told her that Hawkes were forces of nature. Stuff just happened to them. There was almost never a need for a conscious decision. When conscious decisions came into play, all _sorts_ of horrible things happened. Like, for instance, Bethany making a conscious choice to _not_ participate in gym class that day, and getting in an argument with the gym teacher over it... and then lighting the whole gym on fire.

Nope, always better to just go with instinct.

Right now, her instincts were screaming at her to run, to stuff a sock in her brothers mouth, something.. _anything_. But no, she couldn't just take her own advice. She had to be friendly, convince herself that these people were worth knowing.

"So, Hawke... tell us about yourself." Varric looked at her from his backwards turned chair, his chin resting comfortably on the arms he'd crossed atop the chair-back.

"Great, _she_ gets to tell you about us..." Carver muttered from his corner next to the one who'd called himself Fenris. She slid her eyes in his general direction, fully intent on giving him the bird via her eyes, but found herself pausing on the smirked lips of the handsome bad boy. She wondered silently if he owned a leather jacket. Bad boys usually did.

"I... well, we just transferred from Lothering Prep."

"Right, _transferred__._"

"_Carver, hush!" _Bethany hissed.

The response from Bethany sent eyebrows into hair-lines, and the overly-sexy Isabela gasped just at the exact same moment that Varric laughed, "So you were the ones who set Lothering Prep on fire, eh?" Anders, _Professor_ Anders, chuckled, shaking his head with an amused smirk on his handsome face.

Bethany turned red, like a beet. Right up to her hairline. Angelica seethed behind her teeth, "Well so much for new starts, _thank you so much, brother._"

"Whatever."

She sighed. This was easy. Just tell them that it was her fault, and that she did it on purpose. Two birds and one stone. It gave her a bad girl rep and it kept people from asking questions of Bethany or Carver. Good. Her mind turned, trying to come up with a list of _hows _and _whys. _The last thing they needed was to get thrown out on the first day. Well, she and Beth would, at any rate. They didn't let mages school with normal kids.

She turned the forming lie in her mind a few times. Then, she pulled a golden flippy-top lighter out of her pocket. She never was sure exactly what the real name of the type of lighter was, but it had been her fathers, and so she just always carried it around. She flipped it open and flicked it, a wicked smirk pulling at the corner of her mouth. Nonchalantly, she said, "It was cold."

A laugh burst forth from Isabela, "Oh, I like you."

"It was _cold_?" Anders, _Professor_ Anders, asked, peering from behind his thin-framed glasses.

Angelica shrugged. Better they think her a slightly-insane arsonist than both Bethany and she apostates. "You ever been to Ferelden?"

"_Mister_ Anders grew up there," Isabela purred.

"You're right, it is bloody cold. Still, not really a reason to set a gym on _fire_."

Carver rolled his eyes, an audible grunt accompanying the gesture, but even he knew better then to contradict the lie now that it had been told. Better related to a liar and a crazy person then to a mage.

"Well, mostly anyway. Until he fled the Circle, that is." Isabela's silky voice curled around the words as her mouth curled into a wicked smile.

"You... what?" Bethany squeaked. She'd been giving the handsome professor googly eyes since they'd arrived, though Angelica was pretty sure the blond professor hadn't noticed. Especially then, when he was glancing ever so intensely at _her._

_Was it hot in here?, _her mind echoed, followed by her father's favorite mantra, _Nothing easy..._

After a moment or two million under the heated gaze of the brown-eyed man, he spoke."I suspected as much," Anders, _Professor_ Anders, muttered, before turning his head and giving the younger girl a wink.

Alarm bells went off inside her head. They told her, _run you idiot, they know what you are!_

Angelica heard Varric chuckle softly and watched him pat her sister on the hand. "Oh, Sunshine, don't ou worry. Youre secret's safe enough with us. Is it just you, then? Little Hawke over there doesn't seem the type."

Carver grunted in annoyance. Of course, he would resent being called "Little Hawke."

She gaped, unable to grasp what had just happened. While the alarm kept ringing and her instinct kept raging at her to runrunrunrunrun, her mind tried to sort it all out. Did this Varric fellow just say that he already figured out that Beth was a mage? Maybe Anders then? How did they know?

"Well isn't this just bloody great. Are you lot going to tell me you're all _the same_, too?" Carver grumbled, his arms folded over his chest. The look on his face told volumes about just exactly Carver Malcolm Hawke felt about mages.

Varric chuckled, "Not exactly, junior. Though we aren't the schools chanter-trainees either."

Angelica blinked. "Wait..., what?"

"I think you broke her, Anders." Isabela chortled

While her brain was trying to comprehend exactly what had happened, a pair of warm brown eyes took up her field of vision. She heard a chuckle, and for exactly one half moment her brain tried to sort out if eyes _could _chuckle. It took all her willpower to pull away from them and look at the man they belonged to. His face was inches from hers. Maker, was he gorgeous. "You've nothing to fear from any of us, Angelica. We aren't going to turn you over to the Templars."

And with that, Anders gave his head a little nod. Varric, Isabela, and Fenris stood. They moved to lower the curtains, blocking out the rest of the world. The moment the last bit of light vanished from the room, Anders lifted a hand.

"We're more alike then you think." He spoke, and his hand lit up in flame, a small, satisfied smirk on his lips.

Better judgment, sanity even, forbade her to respond. She didn't listen. Better judgment meant thought, and thought meant reasoning, and reasoning meant disaster. Always go with instinct. So she did.

She stretched her own hand, touching Anders' with the tip of one finger, freezing that flame with naught but a thought in her head. Instinct. It felt wonderful. Behind her, she heard Beth gasp, and Carver groan.

"Great, _more mages" _spoke Fenris, or at least she thought it was Fenris, since it wasn't Carver.

"At least _someone_ understands." That one, was Carver.

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><p><strong><em>Professor Anders<em>**

They'd left, the whole lot, off to lunch in the "caf". Anders paced back and forth in front of his desk, the shades still drawn. He'd lit a couple of candles, because lets face it, he'd rather have the candles than the sunshine, right that moment.

Hawke. The girl, the one Varric had brought into their little haven-away-from-the-world. She was a mage. It didn't surprise him terribly. He'd met a Hawke when he'd been attending the Ferelden Circle as a teenager. Well, actually he'd met Hawke on one of his run-away attempts. It had been only in passing. The man let him sleep in his shed, gave him a pack full of clothing and food, and showed him exactly why he had been so kindly.

The sister was a mage too. The little petite freshman one with the big brown eyes. Bethany? Doe eyes, that one had. The brother had similar eyes in color, but they had been harder, a mark of life with apostates for sisters.

Hawke. She had golden eyes. The same eyes as the man, Malcolm. Warm liquid gold. They went well with the maroon-panted lips, and the angled, sharp features. Golden hawk eyes and sharp hawk features. The name suited the woman. No, not the woman. Not _a_ woman.

_She's not a woman, Anders. She's a student, no more then 17, maybe 18. You cannot .. think about a student that way. _

And yet... no girl held herself as confidently as this Hawke girl did. Well, no girl save Isabela, but she wasn't really a girl. Isabela had grown up in Rivain. She'd been married off early and when the man had died, she had run off to join the navy. Once the navy realized she wasn't _actually_ 21, but 16, they'd shipped her off to the Chantry, where they had unsuccessfully attempted to turn her into a lay-sister. Their final act to cow the girl had been to send her to Kirkwall, where the Chantry had a much more solid hand in... everything.

The Chantry. It was the bane of his existence, almost as strong as the Circle had been. You'd think in this day and age the Church would have had a much less... firm... a grip on politics and the like. And in a lot of places they'd lost their influence over the years. Ferelden was a great example of that, as was Tevinter.

Orlais and the Free Marches were practically still in the Black Ages when it came to the Chantry, though. Kirkwall, especially, had more Templars and Chantry Mothers as politicians then any other city-state in the Free Marches. The change was there, underneath, and many of the city-folk were more than happy to attempt to elect a new viscount every 5 years with less and less religious holdings.

People were starting to see how different the world could look when the Maker wasn't standing over them, glaring angrily while not actually lifting a finger to help. They were starting to see that the segregation of the Circle was silly. Mages were people too, and in the era of cellphones and the internet, such archaic Dragon-Aged thinking was rapidly sliding into the past, where it belonged.

Where had his thoughts gone?

Anders sat at his desk and pulled his thin, wire framed glasses from his face. He tucked his nose between the fold of his elbow and used his arm to wipe away a line of sweat that had appeared on the bridge of his nose. From that Hawke girl with those golden eyes, to Isabela's past, to the Chantry.

"_I need a vacation,"_ he muttered to himself, before sliding his glasses back on.


End file.
